


Like a Flame

by DeborahShay



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 07:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7424920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeborahShay/pseuds/DeborahShay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The torch Kyle's been carrying for Cartman has been burning since he was fourteen, and it's about to create a wildfire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Flame

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter of quite a few.

            _I can be your liar_

_I can be your bearer of bad news_

_Sick and uninspired by the diamonds in your fire_

It started when he was fourteen, at another one of Bebe’s stupid fucking parties. Stan had begged him to come, because “c’mon, please, Wendy’s gonna be there and I don’t wanna look stupid being alone”. He had made the valid point that both Kenny and Cartman were going, but the brunet wasn’t fazed. Which, to be fair, Kenny wound up in the corner hitting on Bebe (again, because she was _there,_ and he could) and Cartman wound up coaxing Butters into going down the street with him and TP-ing Mr. Garrison’s house…which resulted in Butters getting grounded for another six months.

            Half the night had passed by, and Stan had gotten nowhere with Wendy other than telling her that her hair smelled nice and then vomited in Bebe’s parents’ rose bushes. Kyle couldn’t remember if it was Token or Clyde, Craig or Kenny, but one of the assholes suggested a game of Truth or Dare, and isn’t that how shitty decisions and cringe-worthy regrets from your youth always start out? He remembered being lodged in a circle of about seven or eight teenagers, knowing most of them by name and some by facial recognition, between Kenny and Stan. Cartman sat between Craig and Tweak, joining solely because he “wanted to watch the faggotry unfold”.

            So far, Butters had chosen ‘truth’ and admitted to never kissing anyone, causing half of the group to howl laughter, and the other half to look at him with pity. Bebe and Wendy had been dared to make out for three minutes, “with tongue” Kenny had called out, which led to most of the guys drooling. Kyle wasn’t impressed, and to be honest, Cartman didn’t look all that entertained either, focusing mainly on his Cheesy Poofs and liter of Coke. He was bored, and about to call it quits and go home, until it was Clyde’s turn to go.

            “Cartman, truth or dare?” Clyde asked, turning to the curvy teen.

            “Dare, I’m not a pussy, Clyde,” Cartman smirked, confident of his decision.

            Clyde returned a smirk of his own. “I dare you to play 7 Minutes in Heaven with Kyle.”

            The entire group stilled, looking back and forth between the sworn enemies, save for Kenny, who was rolling on the ground in laughter.

            “Fuck that, I’m not a part of this,” the redhead felt his cheeks heating up, embarrassed.

            “Why, Jew-boy? Can’t handle all of this?” Cartman motioned to his figure, seeming entirely too calm for this situation.

            Kyle felt the anger bubble up inside of him, nearly a decade’s worth of fury towards the chunky fourteen-year-old threatening to explode in the middle of the basement. “Fine, whatever; let’s get this over with.”

            “Ooh, saucy,” Cartman chuckled under his breath, standing up after the redhead. “Name your terms, Clyde.”

            “Obviously, seven minutes, but in that closet,” he pointed to the closet in the back of the basement, poorly lit and filled mainly with old board games.

            Both boys agreed to the terms, walking towards the closet with the entirety of the group following closely behind. Cartman turned the closet light on (merely a lightbulb hanging from the ceiling), and walked in, Kyle shoving his way in and closing the door after. The space was cramped, hardly fitting the both of them, as they heard the door lock behind them.

            “Seven minutes, gentlemen; make them last!”

            “Fuck off, Clyde,” both of them mumbled under their breaths.

            “God, scoot over, fat-ass,” Kyle shoved his elbow into Cartman’s stomach, trying to find some semblance of personal space in the tiny closet.

            “What, Jew? Too much man for you to handle?” Cartman chuckled, not budging an inch.

            “Too much fat in a man I’d rather not handle,” Kyle scoffed, shelves and boxes digging into his back as he tried to put as much space between them as he could.

            “I’m _curvy_ , Kyle, and chicks love it,” Cartman’s back was shoved against the wall, and still, there was barely half an inch between the two.

            “You’re about the only one who loves it. Now can you just please shut the fuck up and let the next six minutes pass in peace?” Kyle shook his head, eyeing the boy in front of him. Cartman was far from ugly, and only a few pounds overweight, but he’d never let him know that. His eyes were a golden caramel, his face damn near baby-soft. Over the years as he’d started to fill out, Cartman’s weight was distributed more evenly, leaving his shoulders and back broad and borderline muscular. He was still just as infuriating as the day Kyle had met him, and this newfound growth spurt had angered the redhead even more.

            “You say that yet you can’t take your eyes off of me, Jew-boy,” Cartman raised an eyebrow, his tone deepening. “You falling for me?”

            “Fuck, no,” Kyle felt his cheeks heating up for the second time that night, a noise that was supposed to imply disgust escaping his throat, but sounded more like a whine than anything. “You’re too goddamn full of yourself, Cartman.”

            “Can you blame me, though?” The heavyset boy let a large hand drift down to Kyle’s side, fingers gently brushing against his t-shirt.

            “You’re fucking delusional,” Kyle mumbled, his voice coming out small and mousy. He tried to ignore the heat of Cartman’s hand on his side, failing to shuffle out of the larger boy’s grip due to the confined space.

            “Keep trying to convince yourself of that; you haven’t moved my hand away yet,” Kyle hadn’t noticed just how close Cartman had gotten, barely a hand’s space between their faces. He could feel the heat of Cartman’s breath on his cheeks, the atmosphere around them shifting into something heavier.

            “Go fuck yourse—“ Before he could finish his sentence, Cartman’s lips had covered his own. The hand on Kyle’s hip had made its way under his t-shirt, threatening to burn a handprint into his skin. After the initial shock wore off, Kyle’s nimble fingers made their way into Cartman’s thick head of hair, tugging hard. They kissed the way they fought—rough, with an edge of resentment and hatred. It was sloppy with teeth clashing and nails leaving indentions in skin, but by far the most passionate thing Kyle had ever experienced.

            “Time’s up, boys!”

            The two hardly had time to pull away from each other before the door was being unlocked and swung open. A dozen pair of eyes locked with theirs, amusement and shock evident in each stare. Cartman’s cheeks were cherry read, his lips borderline bruised and hair a wreck. Kyle knew how he must’ve looked.

            They made their way out of the closet slowly, the group slowly dissipating. The few stragglers behind were Kenny, Stan, Clyde and Butters. Clyde just looked proud of himself while Butters looked like his innocence was stolen. Stan followed behind without question, but Kyle felt his eyes burning into the back of his skull.

            Kenny waltzed up between the two and threw his arms over their shoulders. “Congrats on coming out of the closet, you two; I’m proud.”

            “Kenny, shut the fuck up.”

 

            The party incident wasn’t spoken about for years. The group went on as it usually did, with Kyle and Cartman down each other’s throats, Stan playing mediator and Kenny instigating the arguments. Kyle had noticed distinct differences between himself and Cartman, though. The insults were the same, but the inflections slightly differentiated. There were still glares of rage, but side glances followed, a wall up behind them that Kyle could never figure out. Kyle’s opinion of Cartman used to be so black and white; he was an asshole that did shit to piss the redhead off, and that was the end of that. But ever since that party, shades of gray started taking place, and Kyle had never doubted himself more.

            Graduation had ended a couple of hours ago, and where most of his friends were completely ecstatic that high school was done with, Kyle felt a pit in his stomach. Sure, no more school for those who had no drive for further education. But for him, that also meant no more blurred weekends with his best friends; no more antics to get grounded for, and no more South Park. Growing up, he’d hated the town; that was the one thing him and his friends had in common. But now that it was about to be put in his rear-view mirror, he couldn’t feel anything but terrified.

            Stan turned down the radio in his car, casting a glance to his best friend in the passenger’s side. “Are you okay, man? You seem strangely bummed for someone who just graduated valedictorian.”

            “Y-Yeah,” Kyle stuttered out, offering a half-assed smile. “Just can’t believe it’s all over.”

            Kyle knew Stan understood; he really did. They always saw eye-to-eye on issues like this, and if he was being honest, Stan was one of the things he was going to miss most. He knew it wasn’t like they were never going to talk again, but he also knew things were never going to be the same.

            “I know what you mean,” Stan sighed, shaking his head slowly. “I never even got to tell Wendy how I feel. Now she’s going to college God-knows-where, and I’m probably never going to see her again.”

            “Hey now, don’t say that,” Kyle was secretly grateful for the change in conversation. “Tell her tonight, at the party. We all know she’s got a thing for you too, dude.”

            Stan smirked, not taking his eyes off the road in front of him. “You looking forward to going to another one of Bebe’s parties?”

            Kyle’s stomach dropped, and he felt his face flush. “I don’t know what you mean.”

            “Sure, okay,” Stan chuckled. “I’m your best fucking friend, but go ahead, lie to me.”

            “Can we just, like, not talk about that?” Kyle rubbed his forehead, watching through the window as they pulled up in front of Bebe’s house. Red solo cups already loitered the front lawn, nameless amounts of stupefied graduates hanging around the outside of the house.

            Stan met his eyes for a split second, offering a small smile like a white flag as they got out of the car. They walked into the party together, a silent pact between the two to find each other after evident as Stan made his way into the kitchen towards Wendy. Kyle could see Kenny and Cartman through the sliding glass doors leading onto the back patio, Kenny already wasted and hanging all over Bebe as Cartman watched the blonde make a fool of himself. He made his way over to the group, picking up a beer out of the ice chest outside.

            “Lookie here,” Kenny slurred, a genuine grin spreading across his face as he enveloped Kyle into a bear hug. “How you doin’, man?”

            “I’m good,” Kyle held back a laugh, casting a glance to Cartman. “How about you?”

            “Fuckin’ great,” Kenny chuckled, looking over at Bebe, who looked absolutely smitten.

            Kyle leaned against the railing on the back patio beside Cartman, taking a sip of his beer.

            “Just humor him, he’s been wasted since graduation was over,” Cartman mumbled to Kyle, who grinned at the sight of the blonde.

            Kyle could practically smell the alcohol radiating off of the larger teen. “And what about you?”

            “I can handle my shit, Jew-boy,” Cartman winked, taking a swig of his drink. “Perks of being big-boned.”

            Kyle rolled his eyes, no response necessary, and downed the rest of his own drink.

 

            It was almost four in the morning, and most of the party had dissolved. Save for a couple of kids passed out in the living room and basement, there was hardly anyone left. Earlier in the night, Kyle had watched Wendy take Stan’s hand and lead him upstairs, and he couldn’t have felt prouder of his best friend, meanwhile Cartman and Kenny just mumbled “fucking finally”. He hadn’t seen Stan since, nor Kenny, who was probably busy with Bebe. This left the two most unlikely people sitting outside on the lawn in the backyard in their drunken stupor, much to Kyle’s dismay.

            Cartman lied on his back in the grass, his left hand loosely wrapped around the nozzle of a beer bottle. He was calmer than Kyle ever remembered him being, staring up at the stars. His right hand was splayed across his broad chest, slowly rising and falling with each breath he took. A lot of his baby fat had withered away, and the kid was damn near six feet tall now. He was broad all over, and his wavy hair now covered his ears. His face had grown more angular, and maybe it was the alcohol in Kyle’s system, or maybe he was going insane, but the redhead could _not stop staring_.

            “Take a picture, Jew, it’ll last longer,” Cartman chuckled, a cheeky grin blossoming across his baby face. He wasn’t even looking at Kyle, whose face burned red.

            “In your fuckin’ dreams,” Kyle mumbled, frowning. Although if he was being honest, he couldn’t stop looking at the bit of pale skin showing above his jeans; Cartman was still soft around the hips and belly, but damn it if Kyle didn’t find it attractive right then.

            “You can lie to everyone else, Broflovski, but I know you,” Cartman’s voice was gravelly with inebriation, sending chills up Kyle’s spine. “You remember just as well as I do.”

            The redhead couldn’t even fiend innocence. He remembered, and he remembered in vivid techni-color. It would’ve been easy to say it was just a stupid, heat-of-the-moment teenage impulse, but both of them would’ve known he was lying. The dynamics of their relationship had changed ever since that day, and both of them knew it.

            “And what exactly is it that you remember?” Kyle asked, his voice cracking.

            “I remember how soft your skin was,” Cartman started, and Kyle could hear his heartbeat in his head. “I remember your fingers in my hair, clinging to me like your life depended on it.”

            Kyle failed to stop the quiver in his voice. “Anything else?”

            “I remember how bad you wanted it,” Kyle finally looked back at Cartman, whose eyes were now trained on him with a certain intensity. If he focused hard enough, he could see that Cartman’s cheeks and neck had a pink hue to them now, and his breathing had become more erratic. Cartman’s eyes trailed over Kyle’s face, asking a question both of them knew the answer to already.

            Before he could overthink it, Kyle was straddling Cartman’s thick hips, attacking his lips with ferocity. Cartman’s larger hands held tight to Kyle’s thighs, bucking against him in search for friction. Kyle let a high-pitched whine escape as the larger man bit down on his bottom lip, Cartman’s dull fingernails digging into the sensitive skin of Kyle’s hips.

            “What is it with us and Bebe’s fucking parties?” Kyle asked between kisses, panting into the mouth of the man underneath him.

            “I don’t know, but I’m not complaining,” Cartman chuckled breathlessly, rolling over so he was on top.

            The brunet pinned Kyle’s arms above him, both slender wrists in one of Cartman’s large hands. Cartman trailed open-mouthed kisses to the redhead’s neck, biting down at the junction where shoulder met throat. Kyle yelped, the noise turning into a throaty moan as Cartman used his free hand to palm him through his jeans. He was already hard, feeling suffocated in the tight fabric.

            “P-Please…” He moaned, shoving his face into Cartman’s neck.

            “You begging…” Cartman chuckled, licking a stripe across Kyle’s collarbone. “Is a sight I could get used to.”

            Kyle felt his temper bubbling up at the words, the anger showing in his actions. He quickly bit down on Cartman’s shoulder, earning a guttural moan from the man pinning him. Kyle quickly sucked a purple bruise onto the exposed skin, licking over it and then biting once more. Cartman popped the button open on Kyle’s jeans and slipped his hand inside, the heat enveloping Kyle’s cock causing him to cry out.

            Cartman covered the redhead’s lips with his own to drown out the noise, his tongue capturing every little whimper or moan he pulled out of Kyle. He could already tell Kyle was on the verge of cumming from the way he writhed underneath him, swiping his thumb at the head of the redhead’s length and coating it in precum.

            “C’mon, Kyle,” Cartman panted in his ear, nipping at his throat. “Fuckin’ cum for me.”

            Kyle buried his face in Cartman’s neck, biting down to mask every noise he made as he came over Cartman’s hand and his jeans. As he opened his eyes, unsure as to when they closed, Cartman was smirking above him, sucking his fingers clean. He felt his cock twitch at the sight, arousal stirring in his stomach again. Kyle’s high was short-lived as the larger man stood up, taking a swig of his almost-forgotten beer and headed towards the house.

            “W-What? That’s it?” Kyle asked, anger evident in his tone as he sat up.

            “What? Want me to cuddle and tell you about my day?” Cartman scoffed, shaking his head. He called over his shoulder, “Don’t worry, princess, I’ll see you again.”

            Embarrassment and humiliation radiated off of Kyle as he buttoned his pants back up and stood up, wiping the grass and dirt off of him. “Don’t fucking plan on it, fat-ass.”


End file.
